To Want A Billionaire (The Billionaire's Baby Series Book 1) by Ava Claire Page B

“Say it again.”
    My whole body was alight with bare naked want, but I managed to sputter, “J-Jacob?”
    His lips ran down the slope of my neck, setting me on fire. “No. I’m aware of my name.” His teeth grazed my skin and I struggled to not rip his trunks off. “I want you to repeat your proclamation from a few moments ago.”
    Heat stomped through my cheeks and a knot grew into a boulder in my throat. “Let’s-” I swallowed a moan as he added his tongue to the mix, drawing a circle that made me dizzy and delirious with need. “I-” His hands swept around me, his fingertips digging into my buttocks like he couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t keep his hands off me. “I-I said, ‘Let’s’-”
    I pumped the brakes, lost in him. He gripped the tender skin of my neck with his teeth and tugged. I had no choice but to stop because my brain was malfunctioning. Two words echoed through my head.
    ‘Sex’ and ‘Yes’.
    “No fair,” I whined breathlessly.
    “Oh, I said nothing about fairness, Mrs. Whitmore,” he breathed into me, bringing my whole body alive. I couldn’t see him since he was occupied with turning me into a trembling, wet mess, but I felt him smile against my skin. “It wasn’t exactly fair for you to snatch your clothes off when you know what your body does to me.”
    Just in case I didn’t, he took my hand and brought it to his groin. Every inch of him was rock solid. For me.
    He released me, but I didn’t let go of his cock.
    “I said, ‘Let’s have sex’.” I was surprised I got every word out, blushing even deeper when I realized I’d blurted the sentence, each word coming in rapid succession after the other. I met his gaze and faded into the blue.
    “Good girl.”
    His voice hypnotized me but when his fingertips found my nipples and squeezed, I snapped from my stupor. Sensitivity had been dialed up during the pregnancy and he used it to his advantage. To mine.
    This was what I wanted and I had a feeling that I’d experience the echoes of this, of us, for days to come.
    “And are you in charge?” he continued. “Are you in any position to be giving me orders?”
    It was a rhetorical question, and as barbed as the Wartenberg Wheel I wished we’d packed. His fingertips would have to do. “Of course not.” I sucked in a breath, knowing my offense as soon as it left my lips and welcoming the swift punishment it would garner.
    He pulsed his fingers around my nipple and I dueled with the slice of pain and the wave of pleasure that pulled me under.
    He released me and took a slight step back, the playful smirk long gone from his lips. I saw flickers of it in his eyes, but it was clear that he wouldn’t abide me throwing the whole rulebook out.
    “No sir,” I corrected, licking my lips.
    Standing before him—naked, sunscreened to death, hair a curly, windswept mess—and I’d never felt sexier. Never felt as whole as I did when I looked at him and saw love and lust in equal measure.
    Apologies were as hard for me as they were for him, but I knew it was necessary and dire. I flexed my toes and peered up at him, as conciliatory as I could manage, considering my current state. My nipples tingled, and my body was slicked with SPF Fuck Me Now. I parted the lips on my face in hopes that if I submitted, properly, he’d be parting another set of lips very soon.
    “I’m sorry.” I kept my excuses to myself. Me being horny, finally discovering the libido that other pregnant women seemed to trumpet, morning sickness be damned; being too consumed with work; none of that mattered. What mattered was the way we slipped and weaved in and out of the roles that we were destined to play. The roles that we embodied in these naughty moments, when we just let go.
    Getting on my knees, locking my arms behind my back, then waiting for his instructions was my usual show of respect. Pregnancy demanded that I adjust, or I’d be using the safeword sooner than either of us would like.
    I adapted,